


You Could Be Mine

by devilshouted



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Miscommunication, Multi, Pining, Rating will change, Seriously these boys don’t know how to have a conversation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilshouted/pseuds/devilshouted
Summary: It’s 1985 and Crüe has hit an apex. Nikki couldn’t be happier, his brainchild is a success and they’re about to embark on a world tour, leaving all their troubles behind in the U.S, but when Vince gets the bright idea to bring a groupie on tour with him, will the band be able to weather the storm?
Relationships: Platonic Tommy Lee/Vince Neil, Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	You Could Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Well...hello again. I know some people are probably wondering what the hell happened to Looks That Kill, and while I haven’t abandoned that story, I have put it on hiatus until I have the drive and motivation to finish it. In the meantime, I’m trying to conquer my writers block with another Terrorcest fic. Hopefully this one brings the same level of enjoyment to people Looks That Kill did🤣 
> 
> A few things before we start:  
> -Nikki actually did get into a car accident and fuck his shoulder up before the Theater of Pain tour even started, the hospital prescribed him Percocets.  
> -Gary Holland was the drummer Tommy replaced in Suite 19, so I’ve given him Tommy’s role in Crüe for the purposes of this fic.

Crüe was going on their first headlining world tour, and Nikki Sixx was fucking ecstatic.

And why wouldn’t he be? Mötley Crüe was his brainchild, his _baby_ , a dream he’d spent years trying to stitch together through blood, sweat, and tears, the only thing that had kept him sane throughout the nightmare of his childhood and adolescence. This band had been a dream he’d sometimes thought in the darkest parts of his mind would never come true, but he’d pushed past that doubt, stubborn as he was, worked his ass off and wrote and played his heart out, and now here he was, a day away from packing up for months to tour the fucking _world_. It was almost surreal.

Now if he could only get through this fucking set.

One last show at the Whiskey before they took off to Japan. Vince had thought it’d be cool and sentimental to give a salute to the strip and the people and clubs that had helped make them so infamous before they went to reap the rewards of their hard work and everyone had agreed, but halfway through the set he’d felt that oh-so-familiar feeling, a dull throb in his shoulder that transfigured into a sharp, agonizing stab of red-hot pain the longer he tried to keep up. Nikki was well used to it by now, his arm had been fucking with him since the accident and he could usually manage it with painkillers and booze, but he’d been in such a rush that day, so caught up in the excitement of the impending tour that he’d forgotten entirely, and now the dark haired bassist was paying the price for his carelessness. 

He can feel eyes on him from one of his band mates but he’s not sure who it is, isn’t going to look and risk letting on how fucked his shoulder is, isn’t going to risk this tour getting cancelled or postponed over something he can easily manage himself, hell no, he was going to keep piercing green eyes trained on the crowd, let their energy, their love of his music fuel him to the end of the set just like he planned on doing for the rest of the tour.

He could do this. He was going to be fine. A little pain was nothing if it meant Crüe making it.

  
❧

He was the first person off the stage when all was said and done, and sure it might have made him look like an ungrateful, self-important prick leaving like that while the rest of the guys did their bows and thank yous, but his shoulder was on fucking fire and all Nikki wanted to do is get to the dressing room so he could get his keys, go home, take a few percocets, and actually get a decent nights rest for once before the flight out in the morning. It may be a pathetic routine, but popping painkillers just so he can fall asleep is banal at this point, something he’s been doing for months, he just expects it.

He isn’t, however, expecting anyone else to be in the dressing room, but the startled brunette that damn near jumped off the the vanity when the door swung open definitely wasn’t a fucking drug induced hallucination. No, he was one hundred percent real, wide brown eyes peeking out of a fringe of dark brown bangs, all long limbs wrapped in tight cheetah print leggings. Now Nikki doesn’t believe in love at first sight, doesn’t subscribe to that cheesy shit in movies that say time will slow down when you first see the love of your life, but he _does_ believe in the way his heart skips a beat when the fear flies right out of those eyes and is replaced by a type of starstruck admiration Nikki had never had directed at him before. It was almost striking how this boy looked at him, like he was something to be admired and awed, and Nikki couldn’t help but stare back, his heart almost pounding out of his chest when he finally gets a good look at just how _gorgeous_ this stranger is.

“Uh... _hi_?” They say it at almost the same time, and Nikki wants to put his head through the wall at how unsteady his voice sounds even to his own ears. He felt like a goddamn kid again, fawning after the first pretty thing to look his way, but if his mortification is obvious, the brunette doesn’t comment on it, still all starry eyed and dazzled when Nikki clears his throat and offers up another, far more confident “Hey.” 

It seems to be enough to break the stranger out of his daze, because he’s blinking like he’s coming out of a daze, and the next words out of his mouth are “I’m Tommy.” Tommy. It seems like such a plain name for such a pretty person, but Nikki reckons he doesn’t have the right to question what someone wants to be called, and he’s nodding his head as the stranger- _Tommy_ \- stumbles through the rest of his sentence. “I’m sorry, I know I must seem like a total stalker waiting back here like this, but I _**promise**_ I’m not.” 

And god. It’s a testament to just how blinded Nikki can be by a pretty face that he didn’t even register Tommy as a threat. He could have a knife in his gut right now and he wouldn’t even have seen it coming, but he finds that he honestly doesn’t give a damn, someone this gorgeous can’t possibly be some kind of psycho, right? Nikki stays on his guard after that, but Tommy doesn’t make a move, not to attack him or anything else, he stays planted in the edge of the vanity looking the very picture of anxiety, tapping his fingers against the wood and rambling on until Nikki just has to interrupt with a “How _exactly_ did you get back here?”

And Tommy, Tommy just sets him with the brightest, most captivating, most beautiful smile Nikki’s ever seen and stomps his heart underfoot when he answers “Vince asked me to come.” because of course, of course Vince had gotten to him before Nikki even had a chance. He can’t even help but be bitter as ridiculous as it is, just unreasonably annoyed at the idea of the blonde singer somehow having a connection to Tommy. All the groupies Vince was always surrounding himself with, and he just couldn’t leave Tommy to someone else.

“Oh-uh, you two know each other well then?” And there he went again, stuttering like a fool. Only it’s even more pathetic now that he knows there isn’t a snowballs chance in hell he can make a move, and the way Tommy’s whole face lights up when he talks about Vince? Yea, it’s pretty obvious they _know_ each other. 

“Yea, we went to highschool together.” It’s wistful in a way Nikki’s never heard anyone talk about Vince before, just full of happiness and hints of good times, and there’s a smidgen of resentment that no one’s ever reminisced about him like that before until Nikki’s pulling himself back together to offer up a “That’s cool.” He doesn’t get to say more, or even ask about their relationship before the door is swinging open again, and the man himself is strutting in, a confused look on his face when he asks Nikki why he ran off like that before he’s doing a double take towards the vanity.

Nikki feels like the biggest third wheel in existence when Vince finally notices the brunette, a wide smile splitting his face and an excited shout of “ _Tommy!_ ” escaping him as he ignores Nikki’s existence entirely to cross the room and grab the lanky figure up into the air, wrap those mile long legs around his waist and spin them both around like a damn top, Tommy’s childish, adorable giggle still music to Nikki’s ears even as he designs to leave the two lovebirds alone, shaking his head as he grabs what he came for and heads out to the soundtrack of _“I didn’t think you’d come!”_ and _“I missed you so fucking much!”_ They were cute together, he supposed, Vince and Tommy, they obviously had a past and Nikki would probably never see him again like the rest of Vince’s flings.

He studiously ignores how much that idea pains him, says his goodbyes to Mick and Gary, and heads home for the night, doing his best to put the fleeting idea of what could have been out of his mind. It wouldn’t do to start getting distracted now.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there’s that. I’m not super confident because my writing is super rusty right now, but hopefully someone likes it. My plan is a chapter at least every month, but I’m not going to promise a set schedule right now.
> 
> ALSO: Special much love to StellaLux. This is an amalgamation of several smaller ideas we’ve talked about, and she’s put up with so much of my inane ramblings since we’ve started talking. 🤣 
> 
> And a special shoutout to SaintOfLosAngeles and WestHamBabe if y’all are reading this, I probably wouldn’t have written so much of Looks That Kill to begin with without the constant and constructive feedback. ❤️


End file.
